


Spicy Starters

by nephiliminality



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Bad Ideas, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24047176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nephiliminality/pseuds/nephiliminality
Summary: Aziraphale didn't so much walk to the Ritz as glide there on a cloud of defiant exhilaration, drinking in all of the world's little details in the manner common to those who are slightly surprised that they're still alive. It probably says a lot about Aziraphale that one of those details was how roomy and discreet the Ritz cloakroom was.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Spicy Starters

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea why I wrote this, or what possessed me to put it on the internet where other people can see it. Oh well, enjoy some silly smut!

Aziraphale didn't so much walk to the Ritz as glide there on a cloud of defiant exhilaration, drinking in all of the world's little details in the manner common to those who are slightly surprised that they're still alive. It probably says a lot about Aziraphale that one of those details was how roomy and discreet the Ritz cloakroom was.

"I wonder if anyone ever gets up to a little hanky panky in there?" he said, on the way past.

Crowley rolled his eyes fondly. "Of course you would call it hanky panky. You maiden aunt."

"Maiden aunt?! I think not."

"You are." Crowley said teasingly. "I'm astonished that something so scandalous would even occur to you."

"Are you, now?"

Aziraphale was developing a mischievous grin. Crowley's amusement took on an edge of puzzled curiosity.

Aziraphale tugged him with a yelp into the cloakroom and miracled the door locked. It did take a little of the fun out of it, but he had no intention of being interrupted today. He pushed Crowley gently but firmly into the coats on the wall and followed him in for a thoroughly filthy kiss, which Crowley immediately returned with a surprised but happy sigh. A brief twinge of worry that perhaps he should have asked first evaporated when Crowley grabbed him around the waist and pulled their bodies together - there was definitely a lot to be said for enthusiastic non-verbal consent.

Without breaking the kiss, and with suspicious skill, Aziraphale undid Crowley's belt one-handed. The demon tried to return the favour by going for the angel's trouser buttons; Aziraphale intercepted his hand, linked their fingers together and pinned it to the wall by his head. Crowley's fingers gave an acknowledging squeeze; he ran his other hand up Aziraphale's back, drew him closer, and relaxed.

Having thus made it clear who would be doing the work here and who was expected to lie back and enjoy himself, Aziraphale slipped an experimental couple of fingers into Crowley's waistband. He was rewarded with a moan, so he unhooked the button and slipped the rest in too. These trousers couldn't possibly be comfortable when one was equipped for this activity, surely. They might yet have to go. Temporarily of course. They did look rather fetching.

Aziraphale turned his kissing attention to Crowley's neck and collarbone, being careful to keep them light (it simply wouldn't do to wear obvious lovebites to lunch). He brushed his fingers lightly along Crowley's cock, which was already noticeably having a very nice time, and set about finding out which motions in which places made Crowley make interesting noises. Soon enough the demon was scrabbling for purchase on the back of his coat (which had better not leave a mark, dear) and thrusting gently into his hand, making deliciously obscene little gasps.

Deciding now might be a good time to ramp things up, Aziraphale sank slowly to his knees, glanced upwards to check that Crowley was still on board with this, and ran the tip of his tongue teasingly along his shaft, ending with a light flick to the frenulum which caused a full-body shudder. He licked his lips and pressed a kiss to the very tip, then took the head into his mouth and savoured it. Crowley now had one hand tangled in the coats and the other in Aziraphale's hair, and he was making little high-pitched whimpering noises that Aziraphale suspected he'd be rather embarrassed about later.

It was hard to tell from this angle, but Aziraphale was fairly sure Crowley's feet were no longer touching the floor. He decided immediately that he would like to investigate the potential bedroom opportunities this ability conferred at a later date, should Crowley be, as the kids say, 'up for it'.

After several more minutes of joyful incoherence, Crowley managed to recover the power of speech just long enough to whisper:

"Knew you weren't just dancing in that club."

Aziraphale looked up knowingly and raised an eyebrow, then slid the entire length of Crowley's cock into his mouth and did something with his throat muscles that no human could comfortably achieve. Crowley uttered a heartfelt expletive and dragged his nails indelibly down another patron's extremely expensive bespoke summer jacket.

Things proceeded rather splendidly after that. When Aziraphale decided to learn something, he learned it well.

* * *

Aziraphale reinstated Crowley's trousers and belt on the way back up afterwards - it was only polite. Also, Crowley currently looked like he wasn't entirely sure how his limbs worked (more so than usual, that is), which was probably indicative of a roaring success. He looked Crowley up and down smugly and said "Maiden aunt?"

"I stand corrected", Crowley mumbled, sounding slightly dazed. "You know... we don't actually have to have lunch..."

"Nonsense!" Aziraphale said, straightening his waistcoat and grinning. "We're here and we have a reservation. It would be rude not to. Besides, I've worked up an appetite."

He straightened his tie and coat as well, then slipped his arms around Crowley's waist, and kissed his way along his jaw.

'Lunch now.'

He gave his earlobe a gentle nibble and whispered, in a tone of voice that made Crowley's brain implode and trousers tighten:

'Dessert later.'

**Author's Note:**

> Dearie dearie me.  
> I seem to have gone from "I don't write smut" to "I don't write serious smut" remarkably quickly. Am I doomed?
> 
> Comments welcome and appreciated, either here or on [Tumblr](https://nephiliminality.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
